The Library, the Witch, and the Warder by Mindy Klasky

Author:Mindy Klasky [Klasky, Mindy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Book View Cafe

24

On Monday, David stopped by the Academy gym after work. He told himself his visit was a casual decision—just a chance to use the free weights in the corner, to watch the oldest cadets sparring in their first organized matches of the school year. In reality, he hoped O’Rourke would show. He could use some serious drilling on the Air Cycle—from Dragonfly to Moth to Crow to Eagle.

But the grizzled old warder was nowhere in sight. David thought about heading down to the library and trying to roust him from his makeshift bed. But that seemed a hell of a lot more intrusive than bringing the guy some food and coffee. And if O’Rourke was no longer camping out in the library, David would feel obligated to track him down, to make sure the old warder was safe.

At least Kyle came in, even if he was half an hour late for his scheduled class. He earned a demerit for tardiness and was sent off to practice Bear form with the first-years. The kid seemed to have forgotten everything he’d managed the day before.

Dissatisfied, David reached home, only to realize he hadn’t spoken to Connor since leaving Arlington Cemetery. It wasn’t unusual for a week or two to go by without contact from his friend—but not when the shifters’ Collar had been stolen. Not when Connor was already on edge, preparing to fight for supremacy within his pack. Not when Brule had said their enemy would be gathered on Sunday night.

David texted, but he got no reply. He could phone, of course. Or better yet, head over to Seymour House. But that wouldn’t change one basic fact: The Collar—along with David’s Torch—was still missing.

At least he could still make out the faint trill of a nightingale, somewhere in the distance, almost out of range. Connor was alive. Not answering his phone, but alive.

Ordering himself not to fret, he made a quick dinner, pouring a can of soup over rice and heating the whole thing in the microwave. After Spot licked the bowl clean, they went on their nightly walk of the farm’s boundaries.

He was still approaching the lake when Bourne rose out of the water, somersaulting onto the end of the dock. As she landed, the sprite transitioned from her imperial form to her human demeanor. He watched her tentacles shorten to fingers. Her lustrous azure hair seeped into her skull, growing shorter and paling to a blond that was almost white. The feral look on her face was enhanced by lavender lips that darkened to a more human shade.

“Salamanders?” she asked without preamble.

“Not yet,” David said. Spot approached the sprite warily, snuffling at the water that still streamed from her shining skin.

“We should take them by surprise, Montroseson,” Bourne said.

“They won’t be gathered until Sunday.”

The sprite tilted her head.

“Six moonrises from now,” David clarified.

He caught her flexing her fingers, as if she were harvesting reeds on the edge of the lake. “Six,” she repeated. “And then we’ll kill them all.”

David shuddered at the blatant violence in her tone.

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